


Avoidance

by Politely_Spooky



Series: Nagas and All Things Scaley [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Animalistic Sans (Undertale), Aphrodisiacs, Biting, Double Penetration, F/M, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Mild Blood, Naga, Primal Sans (Undertale), Sans got Fangs, but not, two Dicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 05:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20577041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Politely_Spooky/pseuds/Politely_Spooky
Summary: Your eyes narrow. Papyrus begins to sweat. Your chin lifts. His eyes dart to the ground. You take a step forward, and he finally cracks.





	Avoidance

**Author's Note:**

> Sans = 16'8 long, comfortable resting height is 6'9 1/2"
> 
> Papyrus = 19'11" long, comfortable resting height is 7'10"
> 
> Because I couldn't find a place to neatly insert this info, a "comfortable resting height" is the height at which a Naga can sit back on their own tail without discomfort.
> 
> If you want me to pull out BS science, the vertebrae on that particular part of the tail acts like a hinge joint, allowing them to "sit" on their own tail. It's location varies from Naga to Naga.

Your eyes narrow. Papyrus begins to sweat. Your chin lifts. His eyes dart to the ground. You take a step forward, and he finally cracks.

"H-HUMAN, PLEASE! SANS... SANS I-IS NOT... EXACTLY, IN THE RIGHT STATE OF MIND!" The massive skeleton shifts guiltily, the orange, magic-made muscles that make up everything from his hipbones down ripple. His arms are carefully outstretched, his cream sweater hanging loosely off his bones. The little orange-white slits of his eyelights look anywhere but you as he stammers out, "AND BE-BESIDES! HE _SPECIFICALLY_ REQUESTED THAT I NOT LET Y- _ANYONE_ IN!!"

You zero in on his little slip up, and Papyrus draws himself up to his full 7'10" height, smiling brilliantly. His fangs gleam, and you clench your jaw, exhaling sharply through your nose. You're just worried about Sans. In the entirety of your relationship he's never been this distant. He hasn't been returning any calls, looking at any messages, hell, you would have appreciated _something. But no one answered._

You and Sans had met about a 2 years or so after monsters had escaped the Underground. It had been at a little, out of the way wedding boutique. You had been looking for a nice outfit to wear to a friend-of-a-friend's birthday party, while he'd been last minute shopping for a tux for his own little dino pals wedding. You'd both, quite literally, ran into each other, with falling astride him. It had been an instant connection... Not. You cussed him out, and he'd given _the most_ unimpressed look you'd ever received in your life.

A month later, you found out the wedding you'd both been getting ready for was the same one; on your side, it was for the fish lady, Undyne. On his, it was a cute little lizard named Alphys. You managed to apologize, and he simply asked for a date as a consolation prize. One thing led to another... Which led to another, which landed you here; stomping your foot at a 7 foot tall, tangerine skeleton.

Papyrus doesn't move, though you can see the confliction in his eyesockets. Fine, if that's how these skeletal S.O.B's wanna play, then fine. You'll play. Papyrus's eyelights flash happily when you back down, bowing your head in defeat. Hos hand drop, one reaching out to ruffle your hair energetically. "GREAT!" Papyrus thunders, doing a swift about face and throwing his hands up exuberantly. "IN CELEBRATION OF YOUR COOPERATION, WE SHALL MAKE, ER..."

He turns back around, staring blankly at the space you had just been. The muted thuds of the "stairs" - really just a glorified slope, with very slight indentations to mimic actual stairs - catches Papyrus' attention, and he snaps his head up, eyelights manifesting to boggle as he watches you race to Sans' door. Papyrus can't help but feel so, _very_ foolish.

"Sorry, Papy! But if it was Tiny, you'd do the same!" And he can't argue. After flailing his hands a few times, Papyrus way of showing that he was thinking of some sort of comeback, he pouts. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WAS EXPECTING..." While throwing his arms up in an exasperated manner. You flash the taller skelamia a small smile of amusement and gratefulness, both of you knowing damn well that he could have totally snatched you away from Sans' door in a few seconds flat.

Speaking of... You turn back to the tan surface. You study everything. From the small swirls in its surface, to the mysterious, ever present flames at the bottom of the door. Papyrus snorts behind you, and you guiltily realize; you were stalling. The uncertainty as to what exactly awaited you in the depths of his room itched at your spine, and your fingers reflexively tighten around the door knob. When Papyrus gives a rather obvious, "NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT, I COULD PROBABLY GRAB THE HUMAN BEFORE THEY _GO IN_", you nod, mostly for your own comfort - _and, maybe also to show Papy you were going_ \- and carefully ease Sans' door [open.](https://twitter.com/PolitelySpooky/status/1170961325385646082?s=19)

The door makes next to no sound as you peek into it's darkened depths. The lights are all off, and you smile softly when you realize the room has a dim blue glow lighting up the walls. Sans once told you that that he only "glows" when he was particularly focused, or relaxed.

As your eyes adjust to the darkness, the first thing you see is a massive pile of blankets. They're messily strewn about, although they are twisted into some sort of basic structure. It looks almost like an eagle nest made out of... Well, what looks like all of Sans' favorite blankets, a few freshly washed sheets, - _which you _**_knew_**_ were clean do to the fact that you had been the one to clean them at __Papyrus'__ weirdly firm insistence_ \- and... Were... Were those your missing clothes?

You blink, making the executive decision to ignore that. Instead, you slowly, _oh so __**slowly**_, creep into the room. Using your rear, you bump the door back shut as you always do, only realizing your mistake when it clicks shut. Loudly.

Your heart gives a single, painful thud when the blue glow that once illuminated the room, winks out. The darkness yawns closer, as though that blue glow had been warding off some evil, faceless eldritch entity. Squinting into the darkness, you struggle with your fight or flight reaction.

Your choice is made for you when you hear the dull scratch of scales across carpet. It's not the usual slow slide. No, it sounds... Rougher. _Sharper_. As though he was dragging knives across the carpet. It's accompanied by a rusty sound you've only heard twice in your relationship: _Growling_. You turn tail, and bolt back for the door. Your only escape route _-and chance to not getting fucked over by whatever the __**fuck**__ was wrong with Sans_ \- is abruptly blocked, the stark white bones seeming to glow compared to the surrounding abyss. You jump, stumbling blindly back.

The sound comes back, this time right behind you. You freeze, the bones blocking your escape now reflecting the very real glow that's coming from behind you. At first, it's height is hardly above your own head... And then it begins to ascend. Your knees quiver, and you feel like fainting or curling up into a small ball. Now, it's well above your own head, and he seems to have gotten closer as well, if the subtle brush of fabric against your shoulders was any indication.

Your eyes slam shut, and you wait. For what, you have no idea. But you wait.

You hear scales shuffling, and his clawed hands grab your sides. Your heart jumps in some odd mix of fear and relief. You felt guilty about the fear, because although Sans had massive hands, with thick claws attached to said appendages, he was skilled at keeping the sharp edges away from your soft, human flesh.. His skull, softer and rounder than his brothers, lands on your shoulder and he puffs softly. You both stay still, locked in some odd limbo of waiting for a reaction - _negative or positive_ \- to one another.

Now that you're no longer fearfully darting about, you slowly peek an eye open. The bones blocking your exit are still there, but looking less menacing. That may be in part because of the familiar blue glow that is once again casting the room in a soft sky blue. Sans' growling kicks up a notch, and you tense. His hands slide around your belly, and he tightens his grip protectively.

His growling fluctuates again, puttering off into near silence. Your tense muscles loosen, and you lean back, only to tense when the growling comes back full force. Every time you tense up at it's volume, it fades into silence. This happens for a few more moments, until you realize that the growling you're hearing isn't _growling_. He's _purring_. Hesitant to test the theory, you lean into his chest, ready to attempt an escape at the slightest bit of aggression.

Sans stops purring - _your palms feel slick with sweat_ \- then kicks it into overdrive. You feel like you're leaning against a motorboat, and giggle deliriously. Sans nuzzles your neck, pulling you off your feet as he leans back into his comfortable resting height. You wiggle, wanting to face him... And maybe also have him stop holding you like a child would their teddy bear.

He rumbles, turning away from the door, and slithering further into his room. You grunt grumpily, not exactly thrilled by the thought of him cuddling you half to death on his... Bed...

Sans drops you, face first, into that nest he'd made. The fabric makes a '_whumpf__!_' sound, and you squeak, "S-Sans?!" He purrs in response, although you aren't exactly sure if he was responding to his name, or just your voice. Either way, he begins to fluff and preen the nest, retreating further into the room, only to reemerge with even fluffier pillows. He's gentle with you, on the rare occasion he has to hike your waist up to stuff pillows beneath your rear.

Fear fades, leaving you with the aftermath of adrenaline coursing through your veins. Sans flicks his tongue out, the bright blue appendage curling in the air, then his upper body ducks out of sight. His tail shifts, and you stare at the markings. The base colour of his tail is blueish black, and brighter blue markings ring around its length. The bands of cyan are connected to darker bands of blue, which then connect to the black blue, in a manner similar to a Coral snake. Sans refuses to confirm if he is, in fact, a Coral snake or just a Kingsnake, and Papyrus has admitted he has no clue either. Sans moves, and you smile softly.

He reemerges with an oddly victorious smirk, now coatless and bare boned. His parka, fluffy and well worn, hangs loosely from his phalanges, and Sans finally climbs into the nest with you. As he makes himself comfortable, a yawn splits your mouth wide open. Sans rumbles in response. Something about the yawn, whether it was the show of teeth, or simply the cute nature of the motion, sets him up to begin tugging at your clothes. You squawk, shirt unceremoniously yanked over your head, bra following shortly after. Your PJ pants are shown no mercy, and find themselves shredded and tossed like garbage, panties given the same treatment.

Sans growls, shoving his coat onto you, and purring when you quickly acquiesce. You go still, resisting every urge you have to begin fidgeting under his intense stare. Sans sighs, satisfied - _his_ _scent_ **_needs_** _to_ _be_ _all_ _over_ _her__ -_ relaxing his rib cage on top of you, and humming. Giving a soft sigh, you reach up and rub his shoulder blades, finally able to see exactly what had been causing that god awful scratching noise earlier. Sans' cervical spines had lengthened, and the scales on the sides of his snake body had also grown in length. _He's_ _still_ _my_ _handsome_ _skelebae__, _you think with a fond hum.

Sans groans, arching into the soft attentions. Subconsciously, his spines rattle, and he finds himself lazily swaying on top of your prone body. All traces of his previous aggressive behavior and horniness vanish, leaving an almost hypnotized snake in his place. _Mmmn__,_ _such_ _a_ _good__, good __mate__... __Mate__. __My_ _mate__, __small__, sweet, so sweet, small. Smells __like__..._ Sans sits up, shaking your hand away in the process and ignoring your soft pout. His tongue darts out rapidly, and he shoves his skull closer to your hairline.

_Another_ _male__? __No__, __yes__? __Unfamiliar__? __Yes__, no, yes, __brother__! __Why_ _bro__, __with_ _bro__? __Steal__? __Scent__! __Scentscentscentscen-_ _**a r o u s e **__**d**_.

You're blushing, watching Sans use both his nasal cavity and tongue to scent you rather intensively. His hands, unthinkingly, slide up and grab your waist, pinning you to the nest, and you shudder. He freezes, eyelights blinking out and his conjured tongue vanishing. Empty eye sockets meet your full ones, and his teeth part ever so slightly. "S-Sans?"

It happens so fast, you aren't sure exactly what he'd done first. All you know is one second your nether region is slightly slick, but untouched, and the next, he has his whole tongue in you. It's relentless, pushing and pushing and _pushing_, until it's stretched taut and writhing. You squeal, fingers clawing at his skull, and legs struggling to stay open so you don't impale the meat of them on his elongated spines. Sans snarls, pulling you closer, and lifting you into a somewhat more vertical position. Your shoulders push harder against the nest, and you shove the sleeve of his parka into your mouth, needing something to distract you from the rapid orgasm threatening the edges of your vision.

Saliva makes tracks down the side of your neck, pooling at your collarbones, and dripping down your shoulders. Sans growls, and your legs spasm in return. "G-good, oh _Saahns_, you're doing _sssoooOo_ good baby, so good." You're babbling, you know you're babbling, but you can't quite be blamed. His tongue is spelling out some _wicked__, _**_wicked_**promises against your pussy and you think you're in heaven. _Especially_ when he starts up his purring, now thrusting his tongue in and out.

Just as your walls begin to spasm and twitch, he pulls away, tongue slopping out of you with an obscene slurping sound. A blush blooms across your features, and Sans makes another interesting noise you've never heard. He chitters, his jaws clicking and teeth tapping together rapidly, before he pulls himself up your body. His ribs - _thick, solid, near immovable_ \- rest against your breasts and you moan.

His phalanges dance up your sides, then drag down, leaving raised, red lines in their wake. When the sharp tips trail across your pussy and outer labia, your hips flinch away. The skeletal monster hisses, using his forearms to hold your waist down. Now, you panic. Hesitant to hurt him, but wanting desperately to get away from those sharp appendages, you kick your legs and shove at his skull. Now Sans is snarling, vibrating the bed with the powerful sound. Shaking, you press your hands to his shoulders and give a shaky hiss through your teeth, remebering what he'd told you once;

_"kid, if I ever do __somethin'__ that hurts you, or __somethin'__ ya' don't __like__, __just__... push on my shoulders and hiss." Sans murmurs into your neck, his lower body sprawled over your legs. You blink, pulling away a little and raising an eyebrow._

_ "Okay? That's kinda _ _sus_ _, not gonna lie with you." And he laughs, not explaining any further._

The skeleton's lower body flexes against the nest, and his entire tail - encircling the very edges of the nest - flares up. The coils flash, the sudden swell of colour and movement dizzyingly striking. His eyelights soften, and the hiss he'd been emitting fades away. Sans leans down, resting his chin between your breasts and cooing, a sound you usually hear when he's trying to appease you while you're going through **periods** \- _heh__, __Sans_ _would_ _have_ _thought_ _that_ _was_ _stomach_ _**cramping**__ funny_ \- of high stress.

"It.. It's okay, Sansy babe. It's perfectly okay." You croon, scratching your nails against his skull. Sans purrs, and you whine. The vibrations rumble against your pussy, causing you to squirm. Naturally, he rests more weight against your legs, halting your attempts to grind against his ecto-stomach, or get _som__e_ form of relief. A part of you understand it's because he think you'll hurt yourself, but the other part of you can't help but pout childishly.

You voice your soft complaints, only getting a soothing purr in response... Yep, looks like he **cannot** in fact remember English. Sans grumbles, shifting his weight again. This time something warm, slick and heavy brushes the back of your knee... Well, _tw__o_ something's. Sans shudders at the brief bit of contact, but doesn't act on it, still purring away, even as you squirm, now purposely rubbing against the cock you feel. Sans groans, purrs deepening into savage growling before he forces himself to start purring, and you huff. Sans really wasn't kidding when he said that he'd stop instantly at the signal... But now it's just frustrating. Another throb from your nethers distracts you, and you keen. Time for some desperate measures.

Your hands leave his shoulders, and you shove one between his massive ribcage and your own stomach to rub your middle finger against clit. Sans makes an inquisitive noise, but still doesn't lift off of you. With a groan, all of your muscles fall limp, and you glare at what you can see of Sans' ceiling. '_Stupid__ Sans. Being __a_ _good_ _snake-__skeleton-__monster-__mate__.'_ You can't help but think bitterly.

After several miserable moments of suspended arousal, an idea strikes. Most snakes, when they mate, curl up into a 'mating ball', winding around each other until the male can find the females opening, and fertilize her eggs.

Your eyes flicker down. Yeah, he's notably aroused, thick, dark blue cocks jutting out from his waist. Your lips purse. Sans has _nice_ cocks, just about average in length, but his girth was an absolute sight to behold. Too thick for your fingers to fit around comfortably, and nearly too thick to take into your mouth. The one thing that had spooked you about them, was their colours; dark blue, with vibrant cerulean ridges and spines, and a bright, tapered, cyan coloured head.

If you could somehow replicate a mating ball, maybe he'll finally fuck you? Then again... You eye his girth hesitantly. You two have never gone beyond the occasional blowjob, handy, or rutting. So you have no idea how this was going to work, or if he'll even have the presence of mind to be even somewhat gentle.

Teeth digging into your lower lip, you nod to yourself. Yeah, Sans was in some sort of heat. Yes, he seemed relatively tame at this moment in time. But, there had to come a time were Sans would attempt to have his way with you, whether it be within the next two minutes, or next 4 hours. Something niggles at the back of your mind, begging to be remembered, but your attention is torn away when Sans gurgles softly, nuzzling his fangs against your stomach. Chuckling softly, you joke, "So I guess it's best to do this while you're somewhat sane, huh skelebabe?" Sans makes another curious noise that fades into a purr as you scratch your nails against his lower mandible.

Taking a deep breath to gather your confidence, you wrap your legs around his broad torso, and twist your hips like you're trying to throw him off. Sans squeaks, tipping to the side with your hips. His tail squeezes tighter, encasing you both with the weird, dual textured sensation of his tail. It was always something that had fascinated you; the top side of his tail was rough, dry, and scaley, whereas the underside was slick, smooth, and jello-like.

Taking a deeper breath, you twist again, reaching up to slide a hand under his armpit, and up around his shoulder. Your other hand grabs his humerus**.** Once more, you roll, now attempting to wrap around him like an aggressive koala. The naga above you hisses, his eyelights becoming even thinner slits, and he follows the motion, landing lightly on his back.

Sans stares up at you, finally seeming to realize that he didn't hurt you earlier. His eyelights flicker, and his hand grab your hips, tail flaring up and wrapping around the two of you, plunging you both into a glowing hell. Sans shakes, dislodging both of your hands in one fluid movement. One of his hands snatches up both of yours, pinning them to his chest, and he hisses aggressively, grinding his hips up in little, circular motions. You squeak, flinching in the prison Sans has made out of his own ectoplasmic body, moaning needily.

The skeleton's teeth flash and he makes a little thundering sound deep in his - non-existent- throat. His hips rut against yours, and you spread your legs further. "C-come on, come o-on, pl-ease!" You nearly sob with need, rocking your hips, while attempting to free one of your hands. Sans's hands are like iron shackles; they don't give, and he hardly has to use any strength to hold you in place.

You writhe like a fish caught in a net, Sans growling as he snatches up your hip in one massive, clawed hand. "Ssssaaahhnssss!" You hissed, gasping when he jerked harder. Pausing, you arched into him and hissing. Sans gurgled, sliding the hand around your hip over to the center of your back. That action forced your hips further up and-

"S-Saaahnns! Oh _fu-_**_fuck_**!" You wail, the slick head of Sans' cock popping into your wet heat. Sans snarls his spinal plates rattling, starting to thrust without giving you a moment to adjust. His hipbones smack roughly against your thighs and ass, sure to bruise the delicate flesh there. You scratch at his hand and wrists, partially convinced that he was using magic to make this feel less painful that it is, because there was no way you should been able to take the full length of him without _some_ discomfort.

You whine, his upper cock rubbing firmly against your clit and lower belly. It smeared you with his precum, slicking your skin, and making it that much easier for him to thrust against you. His tongue hangs between his fangs, dripping light blue saliva onto your face and hair. You moan, tipping your head up, and opening your mouth. Having to use your abs, - or what little you have that passes for abs - you pull yourself up, and fit your mouth around the entirety of his tongue.

Sans groans, the sound slowly morphing into a rumbling snarl when you nip on the forked end of his gelatinous, blue appendage. His pace stutters, and you rip away from him to throw your head back and moan in a highpitched tone. His head drops, and he starts to mark up your neck, teething at the soft point where your neck meets your throat. His hands release your wrists, allowing you latch on to his shoulders and scratch there.

The light flutter of his tongue over the spot is the only warning you get before his fangs pop into the soft flesh there. He lifts your hips higher, and suddenly everything feels too _hot_. It feels like your veins are being flooded with lava, and you feel looser, more relaxed in a way. Sans slides his fangs out of your flesh, growling savagely.

A part of you is terrified, but another part - released by whatever aphrodiasic had been pumped into through Sans - is absolutely thrilled at his out of character display. The show of power has you shivering in delight, and Sans tongue, still out as he was in the middle of licking your blood off his fangs, catching the scent of your increased arousal. His eyelights vanish, and his thrusting becomes more brutal.

It's a pace that would have left your legs shaking, and your face twisting in pain, but that aphrodiasic is, heh, _magical_ and you don't feel anything more than a slight ache in your hips, and blinding pleasure racing through your nervous system. Sans hisses, his spine arching, and your pegs go stiff. You barely hear Sans let out a thundering roar, before your own orgasm is hitting you like freight train. Warmth washes over your belly, in the same instance that Sans lets the sound out.

Silence permeates the room, your shared breaths sounding like miniture hurricanes in the profound quiet of the dark room. Sans, having gone perfectly still, slowly straightens up, his spines rattling soflty. His skull lowers, soft sniffing sound emanating from him as he delicately checks on you. "k-kiddo? kiddo, are y-you... are you, okay?" You don't move, and Sans can feel himself panic a little. His tail lights up, having dimmed down to a softly buzzing glow before being forced to full brightness to portray his panic.

"shit! shit, pleassssssse kid! ya' gotta sssssssspeak to me!" Sans doesn't even seem to notice his hissing, too engrossed with trying to make sure you're not dead. Just as he's ready bolt and get Paps - "bro always knows what to do" - you whine, slowly regaining consciousness. His tail relaxes, and the breath he'd been holding leaves him in one giant whoosh.

"S-sans?" His eyelights flash to life, and he sits up eagerly, ready to help. He chirps your name, leaning closer. "Do you..." You hesitate for a moment, squirming at the feeling of his cock _still_ sitting inside you. His dicks twitch, so you rush through the rest of your sentence. "Do you feel any better!?" The skeleton pauses, tilting his head. "I mean," you motion between yourselves. "Is this done with?"

Sans' grin suddenly looks less then friendly, and his hands flex against your hips. "yeah, 'bout that." You squeak when his dick flex inside you, the other flexes against you belly. Sans flashes you a sinister smile, his teeth looking sharper than usual. "it's about to be a **_long_** two weeks for you, sweetcheeks."

**Author's Note:**

> I wanna know something, if I were to post some stuff about Bittybones, particularly a Bitey, Ray, an undecided one, a Creampuff, a Brassberry, and an other unrevealed.... Would y'all read it?


End file.
